


After the Fire

by fighthesky



Category: Inkheart (2008), Tintenwelt-Trilogie | Inkheart Trilogy - Cornelia Funke
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dustfinger is an awkward turtle, F/M, Help, Meggie is 18, Meggie is a badass, i started this so long ago, what's wrong with me?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fighthesky/pseuds/fighthesky
Summary: Meggie arrives in Inkworld, alone and with no idea how she got there. Cue the entry of someone she did not expect to encounter from her past...





	After the Fire

Meggie didn't know where to go. She knew Inkworld, at least visually, like the back of her hand but she was disorientated and dizzy from the journey. She hoped to god she hadn't attracted any attention, she thought fervently as she clutched the ground for support. She did not want to re-acquaint herself with Capricorn and his men anytime soon. 

Now, a stone courtyard...she stared hard at the square pillars and corridors leading off it. It looked familiar. The architecture screamed of The Adderhead's Castle and that was definitely the last place she wanted to be. So time to move, then. She picked herself up off the floor slowly. Noone had come running, which was a good sign. Maybe there was a to-do in the main hall that was keeping everybody busy; she hoped that was the reason anyway. Automatically brushing away gravel and dirt from her jeans, 

Meggie scrutinised the possibilities. 

Standing out here in the open was not a very good plan, so one of these exits must lead out of the castle – but which one? Perhaps she should just follow her instincts and keep moving. She strode purposefully but stealthily towards the corridor to her left, feeling a little bit drunk. There was a large wooden door in front of her which she opened, careful to make as little noise as possible. Peering around it she saw a wide, airy passage with glassless windows at either side. 

There was no one in sight. Meggie edged into the corridor and closed the door behind her. She took several calming breaths to try and ease her dizziness, then approached a window to get her bearings. Through it she could see the blockish towers and turrets of the castle. That was the main section, which was good, so she needed to head away from there and into the city itself. She headed along the corridor and took a narrower one to her right, then to her left, then to her right again. 

Then she stopped. Could she hear voices? There were faint sounds coming from up ahead and she willed her heartbeat to quieten so she figure out what the sounds meant. 

Eventually the keeping-moving thing kicked in again and she carried on down the corridor until one of the doors opened on her left with a bang and she jumped. A serving woman bustled out with a basket load of fresh washing and was half-way across the hall when she paused and frowned at Meggie.

"'Ello love, you're dressed awful strange. You're one of those travelling folk 'ain't cha? You lost? You don't wannah be late for the show tonight, ey?"

Meggie did her best pathetic lost-puppy eyes and shook her head meekly. It was always best to pretend to be a child in these situations, she figured. The woman sighed.

"No matter. I'll show you the way, you being such a pretty little thing 'n' all. Master's men'd have you snatched up in a jiffy. C'mon then!" Struggling to walk straight, Meggie did her best to keep up and followed her swishing white hem doggedly until she halted abruptly in front of some double doors.

"They're in there," She told the blonde girl, and tried for a kind smile. She looked ill the poor thing – some of these travelling players barely earned enough to feed themselves nowadays. Meggie bobbed her head and smiled shakily back before opening the door onto the chattering and bickering of a group of performers getting ready for their show. She watched the servant woman go, and prepared herself for a second attempt at fleeing. As she stepped forward her legs failed her and she tried vainly to cling onto the door handle, but it wasn't enough and she slumped into a sitting position, head spinning.

(After she's been sick and passed out).

Meggie woke up rather warm and comfortable. Apart from a pounding headache, that is. She burrowed into the blankets, wishing for more sleep but it wasn't happening. The golden-haired girl groaned and sat up gradually, putting her head in her hands. Ow...She winced and then suddenly realised where she was and what had happened. She'd been read into Inkworld. Into the Adderhead's Castle. She'd been sick, carried somewhere... She glanced around, documenting her surroundings. She was in the servants quarters, it seemed. Someone's bunk-bed, swathed in a motley assortment of green and brown covers. The travelling players were asleep in the twenty or so beds around her, some snoring loudly – no doubt tired out from the festivities of the night before. At least she hadn't been reported to Capricorn. Well not yet, anyway. She supposed she should be thankful for small mercies. As she swung her legs gingerly over the side of the bunk they made contact with something soft, which shifted when she kicked it. She looked down to see a sleeping blonde man, curled into an awkward position on the uneven stone floor.

He looked exactly as she remembered him, yet different somehow. His face was peaceful in sleep, his sandy hair mussed over his face, his chest smoothly rising and falling. The man's long body was tangled up in several more tatty pieces of fabric akin to those on her bed, a bunch of them bundled up under his cheek as a makeshift-pillow. Dustfinger. It must have been him who had recognised her, who had spoken her name. Always the gentleman, giving up his bed for her. She smiled despite her headache and for some reason, reached out to brush a stray curl back from his face. It had been so long since she had seen him, she had almost forgotten he was a real live breathing person, and not a figment of a child's imagination. Meggie lowered her feet gently to the floor and stood slowly, conscious of waking anyone. This would be the perfect time to leave – while most of the castle's occupants were passed out, full of booze and likely to be incapacitated until noon. If she could get into the city she could barter some kind of food and board – at least until she figured out how to get back. Or Mo might read her back. If he could. However, she had barely got to the door when a low voice stopped her:

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." She turned to see blue eyes regarding her amusedly from under a mop of sandy hair.

"Why not?" She hissed back indignantly, "Everyone'll be asleep! If I can just get to the city-."

"You won't get that far," He interrupted bluntly. He had propped himself up on an elbow and was smiling very slightly. Meggie glared at him, but he carried on calmly.

"Everyone may be resting but they still post guards on the gates. The Adderhead's not stupid y'know."

"And neither am I! I could find a way to get past them, sneak past them, or borrow some clothes." She didn't know why she was arguing with him when he was coming up with such reasonable points, but his attitude annoyed her. She wasn't a child, and she didn't need to be treated like one.

"I'm sure you could, but then what? This isn't a game, Princess. I don't know why you're here but you won't last long without help." He sat up languidly and stretched, reminding Meggie of a cat, rolling his neck and shoulder muscles as he loosened up his stiff body.

"And I suppose you're going to help me are you?" For a moment she sounded just like Elenor and she cringed inwardly, but stood her ground. Dustfinger met her defiant gaze, his expression unreadable.

"Yes. Your father once helped me all those years ago, even after I betrayed you all. It is only fair that I keep you safe." He stood up, and Meggie was suddenly aware of how tall he was. Taller than Mo, taller than a lot of people, she would think.

"I'm not becoming part of a debt you think you owe to Mo," She looked him straight in the eyes as she said this, "I will not be a burden – and what's more: I don't need to be." With that she grabbed a cloak from a nearby bench and slipped into the corridor, pulling it around her until the best part of her jeans and t-shirt were covered. She could do this. All she had to do was navigate her way to the nearest gate.

With a clearer head than her last attempt, Meggie moved down the corridor and followed her instincts until she spotted some half-drunk guards still swinging bottles of mead as they made their way to their posts. She grinned to herself. If they were all this intoxicated, getting out of here would be easy. She tailed them at a distance of about 3 yards until they split off into 3 and 2 at a junction. She decided to take the larger group, and was rewarded when they exited the castle into the courtyard before a quite menacing-looking battlement, complete with heavy metal portcullis. Time for the second part of her plan. Pausing just outside the courtyard, and making sure there was nobody in sight – apart from the guards, who had their backs to her anyway, she dropped the weighty cloak and stripped off her t-shirt, shoving it in her jeans pocket. She then re-donned the cloak, but in such a way that left one shoulder bare and healthy amount of cleavage. She contemplated taking her shoes off as well, but figured she could hide them with the length of the cloak. Finally, she messed up her already messy hair and rubbed a bit of courtyard dirt in her hair and on her face. Good times, she thought wryly, and approached the guards in what she hoped was a drunken state of cheeriness.

"G'mornin' chaps!" She announced, meandering convincingly as they spun to apprehend her. She pretended to trip up, and one of the poor men clumsily tried to catch her. She used him to regain her 'balance', giggling.

"I don't suppose..." She giggled some more, "You know the way to the Bishop's Arms?" It was a common-folk pub her mother had mentioned in her recollections of Inkheart. She only hoped it was still there. The henchmen leered at her, their smiles filled with spirits and drunken lust.

"You're a pretty lass...how comes we didn't see you last night? Woulda recognised hair like yours. All nice and golden..." One of them reached out and grasped a handful of her hair. She kept the giddy smile on her face and lurched closer.

"Who knows? If you weren't on duty I could show you more of me that's," She made quote marks in the air, " 'golden'." They both laughed uproariously at this.

"She's good. I wouldn't mind a bit of that!" Meggie grinned playfully and managed to pull out of the first man's grip, dancing backwards towards the pedestrian entrance next to the gate.

"I'll be back next juggle-night, how's about you keep an eye out for me then? I'll be keeping an eye out for you..." With that parting gift she pulled open the door and sauntered through it, fairly confident they weren't suspicious of her.

"Oh we will!" One of them shouted after her, "We'll look out for you, Golden-hair!"

She had zig-zagged her way merrily down the main road into the town when she was pulled with a yelp into some bushes out of sight of the gate.

"That was quite a performance, Princess." Her captor murmured into her ear, and she angrily tore herself free, spinning to face Dustfinger, who was leaning nonchalantly against a tree and looking far too pleased with himself.

"Don't you have, like, a family to go to? Someone else to stalk, perhaps?" She snapped, moving to carry on down the path. He was beside her in an instant, hand around her arm.

"Let go of me!" She protested, trying to get away but to no avail.

"No, I don't," He didn't elaborate, "And you may have foiled some merry guards but you won't get very far looking like that. You're far too young to be wandering around by yourself in Inkworld. Not all men have their senses dulled through cheap wine." He offered her one of his unpleasant smiles, but she didn't smile back. Instead she met his gaze icily.

"And who says I'll be safe with you?" His smile dimmed and he suddenly looked very serious.

"I meant what I said, Meggie. I'll look after you."

"I don't trust you."

"What other choice do you have? Where are you going to go? You have nothing and you know nobody. I'm all you have." He wasn't mocking her this time, and as much as Meggie didn't want to give in he was right. She had nobody in this world. She may not trust him, but he was definitely the lesser of many possible evils.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story circa 2008 so bear with me. Every time I watch the film I fall in love with Paul Bettany and Inkheart all over again!


End file.
